You Took My Life In Your Hands (And You Made It Perfect)
by Aerotes
Summary: Daryl's a little broken since coming home, and slowly, he learns to heal with the assistance of his brother, Carol and the most sweetest girl he's ever met.


Daryl's been home for only two hours before he gets the phone call from Merle, asking him to bail him out of jail. He's not even sure if Merle's aware of the fact that Daryl literally just got back home in America, that he hasn't even step foot in his own house yet, and he's frustrated.

But he goes to the police station, eyes stormy and tells the officer that he'd like to bail out his dumb-ass brother. The man just snorts, doesn't even need for Daryl to expand on his answer. He hands Daryl the paperwork and tells another officer to go get Merle.

"He talks about you a lot, you know?" The officer says, breaking the silence, and Daryl looks up at him and scoffs.

The other officer brings Merle out, talking to him in a cold voice. He says something Daryl can't hear, but it's enough to set off his brother.

Daryl feels exhausted by the time he grabs Merle, restraining him in a tight grip. He hardly gives Merle time to finish the paperwork and grab his belongings before dragging him out the door.

"What's with the cold shoulder, lil' brother?" Merle asks, and his voice is still that annoying, slow drawl. Daryl grits his teeth, hands wrapping tightly around the steering wheel. He exhales lowly and loosens his grip.

"I've been home less than three hours. " Daryl tells him slowly, and Merle actually looks like he feels bad for once, like he's regretful, and it's enough for some of Daryl's anger to disappear.

"Aw shit." He says, and Daryl nods, because yeah, 'aw shit'. He was looking forward to taking off the uniform and putting on normal, civilian clothes and try to forget everything that happened out there. He wanted to throw himself down on the couch and watch shitty cartoons for a while and maybe order pizza, and relax.

But it isn't going to happen now. Merle isn't someone that you can relax around. He's rowdy and a dick, or he's high and he's still a fucking dick either way, and Daryl doesn't want to be around that anymore.

The army has changed him, he knows, but now the drug habit that Daryl didn't exactly like but allowed made him frustrated and angry. He hated it. He hated that Merle had sat at home, either by himself or with his shitty friends, in _Daryl's _house, doing drugs and being a useless piece of shit, while _Daryl, _went and fought for his country (and his life) for the last twelve years.

"Ya givin' me the silent treatment now?"

If he hadn't been the one driving, Daryl might've thrown his head back and closed his eyes, and if he'd been in a better mood, he'd have called Merle a dick and gotten over it, but he felt so drained, so empty.

"I'm tired, Merle." He admits to his brother, who nods, because Merle was once in the army even though he's now a druggie and in and out of jail all the damn time and _proud _of it, and he knows what it's like to come home, and just feel like the world was all wrong.

Merle lets Daryl have the silence he needs for the rest of the way home, and when he finally gets home and through the front door for the first time in months, he ignores the mess that Merle had left, and he walks up to his room, and he takes off the uniform.

He does it slowly; unsure if he should feel grateful or saddened that this would be the last time he would wear the uniform and be proud of it. He would wear it again, he knew, to funerals of the friends who were still fighting on the battlefield, to the funeral of the ones he'd lost.

His hands tremble as he undoes the buttons on his shirt, and when he glances in the mirror when he's stripped down to nothing but his tee-shirt and pants, he doesn't see himself. He sees a broken man.

It's been two months since Daryl was released from service, and he has nightmares every single night. He's not sleeping as much as he should, living off black coffee and overall just feeling depressed. He knows Merle is worried, but he doesn't pay his brother mind.

Merle has been surprisingly good to him lately, not calling him to bail him out of jail, and if he's using, he's at least doing it where Daryl isn't around. He's not so harsh with his insults either, learning the hard way that Daryl was a livewire now, after Daryl had almost broken his nose in a fit of anger.

That day leaves Daryl feeling sick and terrible, for several nights, and then he drinks himself into a stupor and feels even worth. But that was almost a month ago, and Merle is trying, so Daryl is too.

"Ya needa see a shrink?" Merle asks one day when he walks through the front door and finds Daryl in the same position he was hours ago. Daryl just grunts at him, stares at the TV but he's not really watching it, not really.

But Merle isn't being mocking for once, even though he had asked the same thing before when Daryl had been a teenager and riddled with teenage-d angst, and his voice had been mocking and harsh.

"'M worried 'bout ya, man." Merle tells him, and it's so not-Merle that Daryl sits up and checks that Merle is sober. Surprisingly enough, he is. "Ya ain't doin' shit these days."

That's true. Daryl hasn't found the energy in weeks to face the world yet. He still finds it hard to accept that the world isn't broken here, it' still functioning and there's no gunshots or death and screams of the wounded, and just the thought of it is enough to send Daryl into a panic.

It's not his first panic attack since being back. He was always an anxious teenager, stressing himself into a panic often enough, but every panic attack still scares the living shit of him, and Merle too. He curls in on himself, and he knows he's panicking and he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't breathe.

Merle sits with him while he tries to sought himself out, gently soothes Daryl and coaxes him to uncurl. "Ya good now?" He asks when Daryl can feel that he can breathe, and he takes advantage of that, and just breathes for a good minute before he nods.

But they both know that he's lying.

_"You get panic attacks often?" The shrink asks with a kind smile. She writes things down during their conversation and asks a lot of questions that makes Daryl uneasy, but he has to go through therapy before they let him go home. Just a precaution, they had said._

_"Not so much now." Daryl says truthfully. _

_"How are you coping with everything? Are you anxious?" _

_And Daryl gives her a smile that isn't really a smile, and tells her that he's okay. That he's fine, and that it's just a matter of time before he's ready to face the world again._

_She nods at him, and she scribbles on her notepad for a long moment, and Daryl knows that she doesn't believe him._

_Daryl doesn't believe himself either._

It's when he wakes up crying from a particularly vivid nightmare that Daryl decides he needs to get out of the house. He's terrified.

It's been three and a half months, and he hasn't been outside. The house has become his nest, and it takes him a long minute of standing in the doorway of the front door before he finds the courage. He steels himself up, breathes and steps out.

That first step is supposably the hardest, but Daryl knows that's not true. It's the second step, and then the third step, and then the fourth, and the fifth-.

He makes it halfway down the street, and then a car backfires and it's not a gunshot but it's loud enough, and it's enough to freak him out, and he decides outside is really not good, and he hightails it back home and curls himself up on the couch and watches the fifth rerun of a cartoon.

"Come on." Merle says one morning, grabbing Daryl's arm and pulling him up from the couch. "You needa get out of the house. None of this halfway down the street shit, lil' brother. This ain't healthy."

Daryl finds it ironic that Merle is lecturing him on bad health, but he lets Merle pull him out of the house and into the passenger seat of his own truck, because Merle is right. This isn't healthy.

"Where're we goin'?" Daryl asks.

"Bar." Merle answers, and it's enough to piss off Daryl, but Merle smirks at him. "No need ta get bitchy, lil' brother. I ain't gonna go get shit faced drunk."

Confused, Daryl leans back into the seat of the truck, but he lets Merle do whatever he wants.

What Merle does when they get to the bar is walk in, calling out to a 'Carol'. _Oh, great. _Daryl thinks to himself, thinks that Carol is going to be a leggy blonde girl who will open her legs for any man, but he's shocked when Carol turns out to be a woman with grey hair and looks too self-respecting to be with Merle.

"Mornin' boys." She greets. "Bar ain't open yet."

Is it really morning? Daryl isn't sure of the time anymore, doesn't care if it's day or night. He's too busy trying to breathe and learning to live again, but those things that are so simple for a baby are too hard for him.

"Nah, Carol, ain't like that. Was wondering if ya'd give ma brother Daryl a job."

Merle didn't tell him about this, and he appreciates Merle's concern and his attempt at help, but a job is a big no-no at the moment. He's still struggling to pick up the phone to order take-out, let alone have a job. It's even worse that it's at a bar.

People always want to talk to everyone at a bar, and Daryl can't handle that, not now, and maybe not in a year, or even ten. He's not healing like the shrink said he should be, he knows that, and he should be trying is hardest to get back out into the world and just live again, but it's too hard. It's too hard, too hard, too hard, too hard.

He doesn't hear what Carol says, he just walks back to the truck and throws himself into the seat, and panics.

Merle takes him home, but he can feel the disappointment radiating off his brother, and it hurts. He's not used to Merle being disappointed in him.

"M'sorry." He murmurs, his head pressed against the window. "I just-" He doesn't know how to say it.

"I know." Merle says. "It ain't healthy."

And Daryl knows, he knows, he knows.

_"Daryl, I know you've been through a rough time recently…" The woman keeps on speaking, but Daryl drowns her voice out, nodding every so often, and smiling at the right parts. He acts the perfect patient. _

_He wants away from therapy. He wants to go home._

"I dunno what ta do with ya anymore, lil' bro." Merle says, sounding sad as he pushes Daryl's legs out of the way and sits on the couch. "Carol said she'd be happy ta give ya the job. Ya don't gotta talk ta people just yet."

"I-"

Merle shakes his head and cuts him off. "Just call her. This ain't good, lil' bro. It's gone on too long, and ya need to learn ta live again."

"It ain't that easy, Merle."

"Try."

So he does. It takes him here days to work up the nerve to call Carol, and he actually speaks to her. The woman is kind and asks him to come in so they can have an interview face-to-face. The prospect scares the shit out of him, but he knows it's time to be strong. He can't keep hiding away and watch cartoons.

Carol is understanding when he asks her if the interview can be next week, and he spends the next six days steeling himself for the interview.

Merle drops him off at the bar, and says he'll wait out here in the truck. Daryl appreciates it, and he would say so if he wasn't so broken at the moment. He feels as though he's being held together by dollar-store glue.

He walks in the bar, and things go better than he had expected. Carol is easy to talk to, friendly and she doesn't push. Their interview goes for an hour, and Daryl gets himself a job, and possibly a new friend.

His first night of working at the bar is like a five year olds day first day at school. He feels like he's fresh meat, the regulars of the bar eyeing him off, but he reminds himself that he was in the fucking army for twelve years, and he straightens up. He can't look them dead in the eye yet, but its improvement.

He pretends that he doesn't see Merle sitting in the booth in the back watching him with a proud smile.

He felt like he's made miles of progress by the end of the night.

Working at the bar becomes a nightly thing, and he finally gets around to thanking his brother. He's not brave enough to go out on his own yet, and can't look people in the eye, but he feels like he's just won the Olympics when he answers the door for the pizza man and doesn't feel the rise of panic he usually would.

He's still a broken man, but he's not shattered beyond repair.

He's home for six months when a whirlwind named Beth enters his world. He meets her when she comes into the bar, at five to closing time. It's almost four am and Daryl kicked everyone out ten minutes ago. Carol's at home, sick, so he shakes her head, expects for her to go home.

Except she doesn't. She takes the glass from his hand and grabs a tea-towel and helps clean up.

He's confused as fuck, and the girl laughs at his expression, touches his arm. "I'm Carol's friend, Beth." She reassures him, and somehow he doesn't hate her touch, so he lets her stay.

It's possibly the best choice he's made since coming home.

Daryl's been home for eight months, and Merle's gone off somewhere, probably high off his face because Daryl's starting to look okay now, he can look people in the eye, and he's actually able to laugh now. He doesn't spend every moment at home anymore.

Instead, he spends time with Beth.

The girl is everything he's not, beautiful and perfect, friendly and she's beautiful. She's beautiful, she's beautiful.

She asks him to come meet her friends, and he finds himself brave enough to say yes.

Beth's has a lot of friends, but she's there, and so is Carol, so he doesn't completely panic. He recognises the officers that he had met on his first day back, learning that the one who had set off his brother was called Shane, a man with a short temper, and the other is called Rick.

He makes fast friends with Rick, and soon he finds himself talking to Maggie's, Beth's older sister, and Glenn, Maggie's fiancé, and he's happy among them, feels as though he finally fits in.

He's been home for nine and a half months, and he's at the bar early, taking inventory when Carol comes in, bruised and crying. He shocks himself when he finds himself comforting her, wrapping his arms around her and hushing her.

When he finds out what's wrong, he tightens his arms around the woman who had changed his life, and promises to protect her. He offers for her to stay at his house for a few days, and he feels so fucking brave and proud of himself.

She says yes, and Daryl then meets Sophia.

It's been ten months and he's known Beth for four when he finally kisses her for the first time, and it's sweet and perfect and Daryl loves every single moment, and he feels like he's complete.

Except he's not.

Ed, Carol's husband comes into the bar, looking for his wife and daughter. He starts a fight with two other patrons of the bar.

Daryl breaks it up, and then he punches Ed.

He hates Ed. He hates Ed. He hates Ed.

He's angry, and he can't stop himself. He beats Ed into a pulp, lashing out, and after a few hits, it's not Carol's husband, _Carol's abuser, _standing there anymore.

It's Will Dixon.

Rick breaks up the fight between them, rips Daryl away from the man and asks what the fuck is going on, but Daryl shakes his head and walks out of the bar. He doesn't care about his job.

It's then that he realises he's kidding himself, and he loses himself again.

_"Daryl, I want you to tell me how you feel right now."_

_Broken. Empty. Hollow. _

_"I feel fine."_

He's gone for two weeks, and it's been eleven months since he's been released from service, but he feels like it's day one all over again. He doesn't go home, he just gets in his truck and drives, and drives, and drives until he doesn't.

Merle's the one that finds him, sits down next to him, and the only thing he says is "Everyone back home is worried 'bout ya."

He goes home that day, and he finds himself seeking solace in Beth's arms.

Eleven months, one week, and Beth, Carol, Merle, Rick, Maggie and Glenn bully him into going into therapy. His psych is an older man with a soft voice, and it takes four sessions for Daryl to finally open up him, but when he does, he talks for hours.

That night, he doesn't go home. He goes to Beth and he tells her that he loves her.

Therapy helps, but it doesn't get rid of all the nightmares. He jolts up in his bed one night, chest heaving and he can't breathe, he can't breathe, and he can't breathe. He's seeing the men in his squad die all over again, and he hears the gunshots and the cries and it's the first time he has a panic attack in front of Beth.

But Beth is calm. She calms him down with soft touches and presses her lips against hers, and he decides that she's the best form of therapy, and that night, Daryl learns that he's not as broken as he thinks he is.

It's exactly twelve months since Daryl was released from the army, but he's stronger now. He's not broken, and he's still cracked, he knows that. He's cracked and like a dinner-plate that's been glued back together, the cracks will always be visible.

Carol tells him that day that the divorce is official between her and Ed, and she and Sophia will move out of his house soon to live in their own. Carol cries into his shirt, but they're happy tears, and Daryl is so proud of her, and he's so proud of himself.

He's known Beth for eight months, and he's been out of the army for a year and two months, and he still goes to therapy even though he doesn't feel he needs it anymore. He's not the man he was a year and two months ago. He's complete.

Beth is his whole world now, his everything, and he knows that she feels the same about him, and it makes him feel warm and wonderful inside, and he thinks that the world is beautiful.

He asks Hershel out to coffee, and he's doing it the traditional way when he asks to take Beth's hand in marriage.

Hershel tells him that he couldn't think of anyone better for his little girl, and it means enough to Daryl that he almost cries.

He picks out the perfect ring for Beth, eight months, one week and three days after he meets her.

It takes him a week to work up the nerve. He asks her out to dinner after knowing her for eight months, two weeks and a day, and that night, they have a delicious meal, and a beautiful night. They laughed all the way through dinner, and Daryl then takes her for a walk, takes her to his favourite place, and he gets down on one knee.

He doesn't get the chance to ask the question before Beth's arms are wrapped around him and they're both laughing and crying, and they kiss, and it's everything, and the rest of the world doesn't exist for that night.

Beth looks even more beautiful with the engagement ring. They host a dinner and they tell the news to everyone, and though everyone is happy for them, no one is shocked.

And if Beth looked beautiful, today she's the moon and the stars and the sun. It's been a year and six months to the day since he's left the army, and one year, two months and three days since he's met the best thing that ever happened to him.

On the day of their wedding, Beth is the same as ever, beautiful and perfect and stunning. With a wedding ring on his left hand and a matching one on Beth's, Daryl feels complete.


End file.
